


Your Time Is Gonna Come

by gothclark



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-31
Updated: 2010-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-14 06:36:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothclark/pseuds/gothclark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean rushes off to fight Lucifer. Sam tries to force Castiel to help. Castiel keeps saying it isn't time, and Bobby just thinks they're all crazy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Time Is Gonna Come

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Renegade Angel Secret Angel exchange for aesc who wanted Castiel and Sam have to put aside their differences (I wonder if Sam still has some lingering resentment over Castiel being unable to heal Dean in 4.16?) to find/help Dean who has been captured/hurt/lost/whatever. Thanks to my beta readers L, and A and H. You were all invaluable. This story was written a few months back before Season 5 started, so my Lucifer is nothing like the one on the show. I'm rather proud of my Lucifer and I enjoyed writing him. I haven't had a chance to look this over for errors, so I apologize in advance for remaining mistakes.
> 
> Disclaimer: Supernatural is the property of Eric Kripke. No infringement is meant.

It had been three months since Lucifer rose.

Dean walked past the pillar with his gun ready. It was a trap. They all knew it was a trap. Sam had begged him not to go. Castiel had rushed off with a flurry of wings, possibly angry. Dean wasn't sure because he'd never seen the angel show much in the way of emotions. Bobby had threatened to tie him up, but Dean was stubborn and he wanted this over. Hell had come to earth, literally, and Dean was the reason. He'd also been told that he was the only one who could stop this.

Dean fired the shotgun at a crash to his left. His right hand screamed with pain. He was sure that he'd broken three of his fingers last time. He clenched his jaw and ignored the pain, and tried not to think about the fact that he was here alone. He tried to forget that he'd sneaked away in the middle of the night after another huge argument with Sam.

* * *

They were still licking their wounds from the last encounter.

"That's insane, Dean!" Sam shouted. He flung his arms in the air and huffed a few times. Dean rolled his eyes and stuffed the shot gun in his duffle bag.

"You're always the one wanting to go off after demons," Dean said nonchalantly as he waved his own arms in mock imitation of his brother. Castiel stood silent, near the window with his back to them.

"There got to be another way," Sam frowned at Dean's antics. "Right?" He added, turning to Castiel. The angel was silent.

"There's no other way," Dean said, moving in closer to his brother. Their eyes locked, and Sam turned away. Dean forced him to meet his gaze. "This is it, Sammy," Dean said with much more bravado than he felt. "All other ways have been exhausted. He wants a fight and I have to bring it to him." Sam shook his head and looked away again. Dean could see the tears brimming in his brother's eyes and his heart ached at the thought that he was hurting him.

"We could let the angels take care of it," Sam muttered. "It's their fault," he added with bitterness. He glanced over at Castiel, whose shoulders hunched at the words.

They all went silent. Dean shook Sam's grip off, and paced across the room. Sam looked frantic. Castiel looked lost.

"Give me one day," Castiel finally said. He turned to face them, eyes filled with regret. Dean nodded and then Castiel was gone.

* * *

"Come out and face me like a man!" Dean shouted. He wasn't even sure there was anyone there, but there had to be because this was the end. This was the showdown and he was here and it would soon be over. Dean felt relief at this thought. He wanted it over. The world wasn't the world he knew anymore anyway, and he was to blame.

Dean leaned against a shattered wall. He stood in the convent where Lucifer had first risen. When a dark shadow flashed across the room, Dean fired his gun again. This time he hit his target, knocking whoever or whatever flat. Dean rushed toward the fallen figure, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Where is he?" he asked, cocking his weapon and training it on the man's forehead. A stream of black demon smoke pored out of the man's mouth at the ceiling. Dean stepped back and watched as the smoke vanished.

"I'm here," a soft voice behind him said. Dean spun around and aimed. The shotgun flew from his hands to smash against the far wall. Plaster and mortar exploded on impact.

Dean turned slowly to face the man. This time he wore a white suit. His white blond hair was perfectly groomed. Dean took a deep breath.

"You can stop chasing me now," Dean said with more bravado than he felt. This was after all freaking Lucifer, the king of hell, the man who had been in charge of the one place Dean hated most.

"I see that," Lucifer said, walking slowly toward Dean. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and slipped his hand into the inner pocket to pull out a pure black feather. They had discovered long ago that Lucifer was wicked and playful. Dean shuddered inside, but managed to hide his fear.

"Let's get this over with," Dean managed to say without his voice breaking into a million pieces. He was sure he'd crack. His heart was pounding in his chest fit to burst. Lucifer stopped right behind him and leaned forward.

"Shall we dance," he said into Dean's ear. Then everything went black.

* * *

"He fucking went," Sam said, franticly shoving every weapon he could think of in a duffle. He stomped across Bobby's living room, looking for anything else he could stuff inside the bag.

"I get that you're pissed," Bobby said as he tried to get between Sam and his single-minded mission. Sam stopped and glared at Bobby.

"I'm more than pissed," Sam said. He rushed forward when he spotted the ancient book he'd been reading just the other night. As he shuffled the pages, searching for that one passage he'd come across, Bobby grabbed hold of the book and tried to yank it from Sam's grasp. Sam yanked back, almost throwing Bobby on his ass.

"Sam," Bobby said.

"No!" Sam flung the book across the room, frustration and anger burning in his chest. "No! I'm fucking furious. Where the fuck does he get off running away like this?" Sam could feel the tears burning in his eyes. His hair swirled around his head and black wings filled the room. Castiel suddenly appeared before them. Sam rushed forward and pushed the angel. Castiel stood his ground and Sam grabbed at his trench coat. "Where were you?" He wanted to shout. He wanted to scream.

Castiel looked to Bobby then back to Sam, his cool expression unchanged.

"Dean slipped away in the middle of the night," Bobby said with his head lowered. "He's gone."

"I know," Castiel said. His tone was so matter-of-fact that Sam wanted to punch him right in his smug face, but he already knew that would get him nowhere, so instead he released his grip on the trench coat and stepped away from Castiel. He didn't hide his disgust.

"You knew and you did nothing to stop him," Sam said as more of an accusation than question. Castiel folded his arms behind his back and stared down at the floor.

"I couldn't do anything to stop him. There was something more pressing..."

Sam loomed over the smaller man.

"What the fuck is more pressing than Dean!" he shouted. Bobby moved in between them and pushed Sam away.

"Fighting isn't getting us anywhere," Bobby said to Sam.

"Then we should go," Sam said as he went to continue his task of packing weapons.

"No," Castiel said. Sam stopped and stared at the angel, stunned at the reply.

"What do you mean, no?" he asked. He was across the room in Castiel's space again, their noses almost touching. Castiel stared up at Sam, defiance in his stance.

"No," Castiel said. "We do nothing. I can't..." He was the first to break eye contact.

"What do you mean no?" Sam growled. His jaw twitched as he ground his teeth in frustration. He reached up then lowered his hand, impotent to do anything but stand there. The words echoed in his mind. Dean's last words echoed in his mind.

"It pains me just as much as you," Castiel finally said after a long silence.

"You sat and watched him suffer in pain once before," Sam said, remembering the time Dean had been beaten almost to death by Alastair and Castiel's refusal to help heal Dean then. "You refused to help him then, and I will be fucking damned if you refuse again. We are going after my brother and if you would rather cower…" Castiel flinched at the word. "...cower here while Dean dies, I am fucking done with you for good." Sam's whole body was tense now, every muscle screaming, and every nerve frayed to the last strand. He leaned forward and shoved his face in Castiel's.

"Sam," Castiel said, and though he had nothing to fear, he leaned away from Sam, his body bent back. His eyes were wide and locked on Sam's.

"Get the fuck out of my face," Sam whispered.

* * *

He woke to darkness. Dean tried to sit up, but discovered quickly that he was restrained. Once his eyes had adjusted to the darkness and the groggy feeling had worn off, he also realized that he was tied down to something soft.

Dean lifted his head up and looked around the darkened room to find that the something soft he was bound to was actually a hospital bed. The bed was stripped down with no pillow and he was tied down so tight that his wrists hurt. His arms and legs were spread wide and his jacket lay on a chair beside the bed. He wore only jeans and a t-shirt. When he leaned his head as far to the left as he could, he saw his boots on the floor and his flannel shirt lay in a crumpled heap beside them. Dean strained against his bonds, testing them.

"Welcome back, sleeping beauty," Lucifer said. The voice was coming from behind Dean. Dean craned his head to try to see where he was, but couldn't.

"You sly dog," Dean said. "I should have known you were into bondage." He continued to struggle, despite the ropes cutting off his circulation. When a hand trailed down his left arm, Dean struggled harder.

"I'm into everything," Lucifer purred. He leaned in close to Dean's ear and chuckled.

"Cool, then you won't mind letting me go, because I'd sure be into that," Dean replied. Lucifer straightened and seemed to contemplate Dean's request. Dean watched as he walked to the foot of the bed and stopped.

"I really like you, Dean Winchester," Lucifer said, tapping his bottom lip with an index finger. "You're...spunky and kind of cute."

Dean flinched at the words. They seemed so wrong coming out of this man's mouth.

"Here's the thing," Lucifer said, moving to stand beside Dean. "I don't want to let you go. I need you."

"I'm flattered," Dean said. "Really, but I don't swing that way."

* * *

He was strong. He was too strong for Dean to push away, but Dean didn't want to push Castiel away. Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel and rubbed up against his length. They were standing against a rough brick wall, and it was a dark cool night. The kiss hadn't totally been out of left field. Dean sort of suspected that Castiel had started to develop those kinds of feelings for him. It wasn't anything overt. It was the little things Castiel did or said. Dean could ignore the clues because there was no harm in crushing on a guy. After all, Dean was hot. He'd had guys hit on him before in the past.

Despite the little signs, when Castiel had grabbed hold of Dean, and thrown him up against the wall, Dean's first thought wasn't of kissing. He wondered what danger they had inadvertently stumbled on. When Castiel had locked lips with Dean, the wondering stopped. The kiss was weird and not because it was a guy kissing him, or because the guy wasn't even him himself, or even because the kiss came from an angel. It was weird because at first, Castiel sort of just pressed their mouths together. Dean thought that was because of lack of experience, but then when the kiss softened and Castiel pushed his tongue past Dean's lips to part them like he'd done this a million times, Dean opened his eyes, shocked that his dick had twitched in his pants.

Castiel's eyes were closed, and the look on his face was one of full concentration, like Dean was the most important thing in the world. Dean closed his eyes, and tilted his head, tasting sweetness as Castiel licked his lips. When Castiel pulled away, breaking the kiss, Dean's heart trip-hammered in his chest, and he found himself leaning forward, eager for more. He opened his eyes again to look into Castiel's deep blue hesitant gaze. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment. Dean could see the depths of the universe in Castiel's.

"I have heard it said that actions speak louder than words," Castiel whispered.

"Good thing I shaved this morning," Dean blurted, feeling foolish the moment he spoke the words. He frowned, unsure why those were the first words to come to mind. He should be freaked. He should be excited, or angry or frustrated or something, but dumbfounded seemed wrong. Dean shook his head at his mental thoughts and realized that dumbfounded was the perfect reaction. He'd never once thought that Castiel would react on his feelings for him. He kidded about it with Sam once or twice when Sam had teased him about how Castiel went out of his way to make sure Dean was always safe, but Dean had convinced himself that Castiel would keep it platonic.

Castiel took a step back and Dean snapped out of his reverie when he realized that the look on Castiel's face had changed from the usual passive inscrutable one to a look of hurt. Dean's eyes went wide at the sudden realization that Castiel may have taken Dean's reaction for one of rejection. He reached out and tried to tug Castiel closer, but the man wouldn't move, so instead Dean took a step closer. Castiel stepped back and held a hand up to stop Dean from moving in close.

"What I meant was, that was kind of a surprise," Dean stumbled over the words, unsure what else to say. What could he say? Castiel was an angel and angels weren't supposed to feel anything as far as he knew. Or maybe they were and normally those feelings were pent up inside like a Vulcan or something. Dean felt panic build in his chest. Silence fell between them, and the moment stretched out too long to be anything but embarrassing. Castiel tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

"I understand," he said with a sad sigh. He looked down at himself. "I repulse you."

Then Dean blinked and Castiel was gone in a flurry of wings. Dean rushed forward, grasping at air, and fumbling when he caught nothing in his grip. Castiel was gone.

"I fucking hate when you do that," Dean shouted up at the sky.

* * *

Sam was pacing, frustration building with each moment that passed. Bobby had gone out and Castiel stood near the fireplace, brooding. Sam turned to face the angel. Was he seriously brooding? His head was down, and his eyes looked sad. It had to be brooding. Even though Sam had been told again and again that angels didn't have emotions or feelings in the same way that humans did, he didn't buy that line of bull. They'd been with Castiel for months now and he knew the angel felt emotions. He could see it in his eyes time and time again. Sometimes he even felt for him because it couldn't be easy, having to use somebody else.

Sam stopped his pacing and watched as Castiel leaned his arm against the fireplace mantel in a perfect imitation of one of Dean's stances. He cleared his throat and Castiel look up at him.

"Why are you still here?" Sam asked with a disgusted sneer. Despite any amount of empathy Sam might harbor for Castiel, he was still furious at the guy, but Bobby and reasoning had prevailed. Even though Sam was angry at Castiel, they needed him.

"Because it isn't time yet," Castiel muttered.

"Time for what?" Sam said, rushing forward. He once again resisted the urge to punch Castiel in the face. Dean had told him how it felt like hitting a brick wall and Sam wasn't into pain. "Dean could be dead."

"He isn't," Castiel muttered, lowering his head.

"How do you know?" Sam asked. His eyes went wide. He loomed over Castiel, glaring down at him. His body was so tense now, Sam was sure he'd explode with rage. These days he was quick to anger and he knew this. He'd had no time to actually sit down and wonder why, because in his life, there was never time for wondering.

"Because I know," Castiel said, looking up into Sam's eyes. The pain practically radiated off of him.

"Can you, like what, feel his presence or something?" Sam finally asked after a long pause.

"Dean's death would signal my death."

* * *

The restraints were really starting to chafe. Dean continued to test them despite the fact that they were tied good and tight. He had to at least try to get away. The king of fallen angels was looming nearby, though he hadn't said much in the past hour. It was like he was waiting for something. Dean had already asked about going to the bathroom as a ruse to try to escape but gotten no response. Lucifer walked across the room and pushed the blinds aside with one finger. A sliver of light shown through, telling Dean that it was probably daytime, though he wasn't sure what time of day or even what day. For all he knew, he was back in hell and years had passed.

"Hey, Luci," Dean called out, smirking at the slight cringe the nickname elicited. Dean glanced up at his left wrist. His skin was raw and red on the wrist and when he tugged, the pain shot down his arm. "Seriously, I have to take a piss."

Lucifer turned his head to look at Dean.

"Go ahead," he said, disgust in his face. The next second he was in Dean's face, snarling. "It won't be much longer anyway."

"What won't be much longer?" Dean asked, turning his head away. His breath smelled kind of rank, and Dean was about to make a crack about how Lucifer should brush his teeth more often when the bonds on his wrist were snapped off. Dean screamed in pain when he felt his left wrist crack. Lucifer twisted the wrist in his hand and grinned.

"You'll see soon enough," Lucifer said as he released Dean's hand and snapped the ropes on his ankles, this time with more care. Dean sat up, and almost shrieked when he was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and lifted off the bed. Lucifer held him in the air for a moment with his feet dangling above the floor. Dean grabbed at Lucifer's arm, trying to pull him off with no luck. The strength of a demon was no match. When he was finally released, Dean landed clumsily on his feet and he almost fell back. "Go and relieve yourself." He leaned in close, looming over Dean.

Dean backed away, rubbing at his raw wrists. The one that had cracked hurt like a bitch, and Dean cradled it in his other hand.

"You're all so fragile," Lucifer said. Dean looked around the room to see that there was a bathroom, but its door was gone. The room was dingier than Dean had originally thought, and he slowly walked past Lucifer, avoiding eye contact. When he glanced out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Lucifer had crossed his arms and was watching Dean.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Dean quipped. "Maybe next time, you could put in a good word with the almighty and tell him to make us less breakable."

Lucifer chuckled and shook his head as Dean stood in front of the toilet and relieved himself. He took note that the bathroom had a small window, and that the way to the exit was blocked by Lucifer. This was obviously some motel room who knew where. Even if Dean could escape, he'd have no idea where to go from there.

Dean zipped his pants up once he was finished, and flushed the toilet. He moved to the small sink to wash his hands, also noting that there was a little bar of soap wrapped in green paper with no indication of the motel name, clean towels and fresh rolls of toilet paper. This was not an abandoned motel, so how had Lucifer gotten Dean here without arousing suspicion? Dean leaned toward the small window and caught a glimpse of a man walking to a truck. He couldn't see a highway or road of any kind. Maybe this place was off the beaten track. Dean thought about shouting out the window at the guy, but that would probably get the poor sucker killed.

He dried his hands on one of the rough towels, and turned to leave the bathroom. Lucifer stood in the entry way, blocking his path.

"It would get the guy killed," he said with a grin. Dean cleared his throat and motioned at the window.

"You saw all that," he said with a nervous chuckle. This was going to be a hard escape if he could even attempt one at all.

"It's cool," Lucifer said with a shrug. "I don't begrudge you any thoughts of wanting to escape. I will warn you that if you try, I will kill anybody near you," he leaned in close at those words, "I will lay waste to anything within a five mile radius of you including the birds in the air, Dean Winchester. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Dean said, eyes going wide. Why the fuck did demons always have to say Dean's full name when they meant serious business?"

"Speaking of things that fly, how about that angel of yours?" Lucifer said, stepping away from the entrance to let Dean pass. This time, Dean kept his eyes on Lucifer as he walked back into the room and paced in front of the bed.

"What about him?" Dean asked, hesitant. He'd hoped to keep Castiel's name out of any conversation, but he supposed it was inevitable. After all, Lucifer and Castiel had once flown in the same circles.

"Isn't he cute?" Lucifer said with a tilt of his head, as though he were contemplating the notion.

"How would I know," Dean said, shrugging. "He's possessing Jimmy, so I've never actually seen him."

"Right," Lucifer said, smiling. Dean didn't like the look of that grin. "Too bad you can't see his true form. An angel's true form is powerful and terrifying and beautiful to behold." He closed his eyes and seemed to fall into some kind of trance.

Dean glanced at the exit and debated moving closer.

"I wasn't kidding when I said I'd kill things," Lucifer said. Dean paused in his pacing and sat down on the end of the bed. He rubbed his face with his hands, flinching from the pain in his wrist. He'd already examined the whole room and there was nothing in it that would help him escape, or slow Lucifer down. He was alone and at the devil's mercy.

"I get it, okay," Dean finally said. A feeling of dread overwhelmed him. If he could just call Sammy to let him know not to come after him, then maybe later they could fight over whether this was the most boneheaded move Dean had ever made. That was, if Dean survived. Dean glanced at the telephone.

"Good, then let's move things along." Lucifer stopped in front of Dean and reached out to touch Dean's chin, tilting his head up. "Everything is going to be okay."

"Yeah, right because you're so ready to leave the world alone and let us go on living our lives instead of turning it into your own personal hell," Dean quipped. He almost flinched as the fingers on his chin twitched with his words. Stop trying to anger him! Interestingly enough, the voice in his head sounded a lot like Castiel.

"Dean," Lucifer smiled and grabbed Dean's chin to pull him to his feet. They were face to face and Dean gulped, afraid he'd pushed too far. "I'm going to kill everyone you love. Sam I might spare because he did after all have a hand in pulling me out of hell, but Castiel," Lucifer said with a twinkle in his eye, "Castiel I am going to kill and it won't be fast either. It will be slow and painful and Jimmy will know all about it. In fact, I will take great pains to ensure that Jimmy Novak, the stupid meat suit, will feel every single second of pain that Castiel feels."

Lucifer pulled Dean in closer until their noses almost touched. Dean could feel Lucifer's breathe on his face and he recoiled from the hint of sulfur. It was that same smell he'd detected before. They stayed like that, staring into each other's eyes, Lucifer's touch hot on Dean's face.

"I know how you feel about them both," Lucifer said, releasing Dean. Dean stumbled back and fell on the bed, rubbing at his chin. It felt like there were maggots crawling on his skin, and he rubbed harder in an attempt to extinguish the feeling.

Dean glared up at Lucifer, rage and fear mingling together.

"You're conflicted because of the meat he wears," Lucifer continued. He paced around the room, waving his hand in the air and ignoring Dean.

"You sick son a bitch," Dean mumbled through gritted teeth. He rubbed at his jaw, but nothing helped to shake the crawling sensation.

"I truly am," Lucifer said as he leaned forward and stared into Dean's eyes. "You shouldn't torture yourself. Let me do it for you." He raised his hand and Dean flinched. The pain started in his gut as a sharp stab and built until his insides felt like they were on fire. Dean clenched his teeth and fought the urge to scream. There was no way he would give the bastard the satisfaction. Just as he felt he could take no more, the pain ceased. Dean uncurled and glared up at the manic smile on Lucifer's face.

"Look, he's great. He really is," Lucifer said, casually sitting behind Dean and placing his hand on Dean's hip. Dean stiffened at the touch. "But he's a stick-in-the-mud and would never go there." Lucifer patted Dean several times and stroked him until his hand slid under Dean's shirt to touch bare skin. Dean wanted to move away. He wanted to scream, but instead he squeezed his eyes shut, and endured the caress.

"Jimmy isn't meat," Dean said with another flinch as Lucifer's hand crept farther under his shirt. Dean resisted a smug smile. "And you are so wrong."

"Really?" Lucifer said his hand pausing in its travels. He pulled it out from under Dean's shirt and smacked Dean on the ass, startling Dean. "Do tell."

* * *

The field went on forever. Tall grass bent from the cool, gentle breeze. Sam stood, looking at his surroundings. The sky was bright blue with no clouds, and there was nothing but long, green grass as far as he could see. Something wasn't right. This wasn't anyplace near Bobby's. Sam was almost sure of that. The last thing he remembered was being in Bobby's kitchen.

He saw a figure in the distance and called out to them, but they had their back to him. Sam started to walk toward the person, but no matter how fast he walked, they never seemed to get closer. He picked up speed, but he still couldn't reach the figure.

"You'll never save him," a voice in his head said. Sam stopped and looked around, frantic.

"Who are you?" he shouted to the figure. Then someone tapped him on the shoulder and Sam spun around.

He sat up covered in sweat. Sam only slightly calmed down when he saw that he was not in fact in some distant wheat field. He was on Bobby's sofa where he'd fallen asleep while doing research. He shuddered at the thought of who had been in his dream, and almost fell off the sofa when he realized that there was somebody standing in the room. It was Castiel, standing with his gaze fixed on the far wall.

"You dreamed of him," Castiel said.

Sam sat up and frowned, rubbing at his face to shake the feeling of exhaustion.

"It's time," Castiel said after a long silence. Sam looked up to find Bobby standing just behind Castiel.

"I'll get supplies," Bobby said and turned to leave the room. Sam stood and stretched, and then turned on Castiel.

"So now it's time," he said, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

"Yes," Castiel said, standing with his hands behind his back and his lips pursed. He focused on Sam. "We'll drive there."

"Why can't you just..." Sam put his hands together and made butterfly flapping motions with them. "...you know..." Sam lowered his hands when Castiel just stared at him as though he were insane.

"Timing is everything," Castiel finally said. He turned and started to head for the front door until Sam grabbed hold of his arm.

"Sorry I was harsh last night," Sam said, feeling sheepish and just a bit awkward. He released Castiel when he realized that the angel was staring down at Sam's grip on his arm.

"We should go," Castiel said. At that moment, Bobby came in with two duffle bags. He'd put on a coat and his baseball cap.

"Let's ride," Sam said. He felt a rush of adrenaline course through him as they moved out to the car. Bobby put his bags in the back of his pick-up truck and got in behind the wheel, while Sam opened the passenger side door and waited for Castiel to slide into the cab. Sam got in beside him, pushing Castiel in further so that he sat between Sam and Bobby. They all buckled in. This was going to be a long ride.

Once they were on the road, Bobby reached for his GPS and pressed a few buttons. The device beeped a few times.

"Where to, angel boy?" Bobby asked. Sam noted that Bobby had barely glanced at Castiel since they had started off on the road.

"I will tell you when you need to know," Castiel replied. Sam flinched at the cool tone, knowing that it might not go over well with Bobby, but to his surprise Bobby just huffed and went back to concentrating on driving. Sam also noted that Bobby seemed to be avoiding physical contact with Castiel, and whether that was intentional or not, it made the cab crowded. Sam nudged Castiel toward Bobby, and cringed when Castiel bumped against Bobby's arm. The truck swerved for a second, and Bobby glared at them both.

Another hundred miles later, and no one had said a word. Sam's phone started to hum. He pulled it out of his coat pocket and stared down at the number. It was Dean. Sam popped the phone open and put it to his ear.

"Dean," he called out.

"Yeah, Sammy, it's me," the voice on the other end said. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't sound hurt or upset or like he'd been tortured or something.

"Where are you?" All thoughts of chastising his brother flew out the wind at the sound of Dean's voice. Sam noted the anxious looks on both Bobby and Castiel faces. Bobby pulled to the side of the road and turned the engine off. "Why did you have to go off on your own?"

"I'm not sure where I am. I think it's some sleazy motel somewhere on planet earth," Dean said. That meant that Dean hadn't looked outside yet.

"Are you alone?" Sam asked the question, afraid of the reply.

"Nope," Dean said. Sam hoped the next words out his brother's mouth were 'hot chick.'

"Well, can you get away?" Sam said, hoping for a yes answer but knowing in his heart that this could never be as easy as that.

"Nope," Dean replied. "Look, could you put Castiel on?"

"Sure," Sam said with a sinking feeling in his heart. Dean had barely given him a clue. Sam reluctantly handed the phone to Castiel. "It's for you."

Castiel took the phone from him and placed it to his ear, seeming just as reluctant as Sam.

"Yes?" A pause told Sam that Dean must have been talking, but he couldn't hear what was being said. Sam leaned in closer in the hope of hearing something.

"I know how this ends," Castiel replied after a long pause. He nodded.

"I'm willing no matter what the outcome." He paused again and glanced at Sam.

"Can I talk to Dean?" Castiel asked. Sam arched his brows. Hadn't he been speaking to Dean already? If he hadn't then who was he talking to? Castiel looked startled and held the phone away from his ear. "He hung up." He handed the phone back to Sam and went back to staring at the road ahead.

"Well," Sam urged. "What did he say?" Castiel turned his head to look at Sam.

"It was Lucifer," he said. His tone was so calm, Sam wanted to grab him and shake him.

"And," Sam said with a hand motion to encourage him to continue.

"And he plans to kill me slowly while you all watch," Castiel said. Bobby slammed his hand on the steering wheel, unbuckled his seat belt and yanked his door open to climb out of the truck. He looked upset and furious and frustrated all at once and Sam didn't blame him. Castiel could be infuriating.

"Then we need a better plan than just driving up to his hideout," Sam said with a wave of his hands.

"We need to drive," Castiel said.

* * *

Dean watched as Lucifer crushed his cell phone between his fingers, like it was made out of tissue paper. He let the plastic and electronic bits fall to the floor and then brushed his hands together as though he were brushing dust from them.

"You should close your mouth," Lucifer said. Dean snapped his gaping mouth shut and stared, unsure what else to say. Lucifer had snatched the cell phone from his hand and made some threats to Castiel before crushing the thing. "You could catch flies."

"Around you, that is a distinct possibility," Dean quipped. Lucifer frowned and moved toward Dean.

A flutter of wings filled the air, and Zachariah appeared in the center of the room. He smiled at Dean and then stepped forward, getting down on one knee in front of Lucifer. Dean rolled his eyes at the angel's behavior.

"Saved by the Zach," Dean muttered.

Lucifer motioned for Zachariah to stand and when he was on his feet again, they moved to the other side of the room with their backs to Dean. They spoke in hushed voices, and Dean moved closer to try to hear what they were saying. Zachariah turned to smile at Dean.

"Don't worry, Dean," he said, grinning like a loon. "You'll know soon enough what's going on."

Lucifer turned and held his hand up to reveal a small sword. It was stained with blood.

"This is what I've been waiting for," Lucifer said. He smiled at Dean as he took a step forward. Dean rushed back and pushed himself flat against the wall as far away from them as possible, holding his hand out as if it would protect him. They advanced on him.

"Now wait a second," Dean stuttered frantic. "We can talk this through. Come on guys, there's no need for violence here."

They paused in their advance, and Zachariah smiled brightly. Dean hated that smile. In truth he hated everything about the bastard.

"Don't worry," Zachariah said.

"Yes, Dean," Lucifer interrupted. He stepped behind Zachariah and in one smooth motion, slit Zachariah's throat. The angel's eyes went wide with surprise. He clutched at his cut throat, trying to stop the blood as it gushed from the wound, and poured down his front, soaking his pristine suit. Dean stared in shock and watched as Zachariah fell to his knees. "Don't worry. This isn't for you." For what felt like an eternity, Zachariah knelt before Dean, pleading eyes staring up at him. Then he fell forward as Lucifer kicked him in the back. Dean had his mouth open again. He shouldn't have been this shocked. This was Lucifer after all, but he was at a loss for words. He stared down at the body as blood started to pool beneath him.

When he looked up, Lucifer was cleaning the sword. He shrugged and held the sword in the air.

"What do you know?" he said, "I guess this means I'm still an angel at heart."

Dean fell back against the wall and slid down to sit. The realization that this sword could be used to kill Castiel hit him.

"Now where were we?" Lucifer said as he carelessly waved the sword in the air. "Oh, right, you were about to tell me about Castiel's extra curricular activities."

* * *

The silence was driving Sam nuts. He kept shifting in his seat and nudging Castiel with his elbow. He told himself it was by accident but the truth was he was mad at him. Why couldn't he just come out and say what the fuck was really going on? Why did he have to be so secretive? Sam hated secretive. He didn't trust anyone after what had happened with Ruby that wasn't Dean. Sam started to tap his fingers against the dash board. At first, it was just random, nervous tapping, but then it started to form into a tune. Sam stopped when he realized that it was Dean's favorite song he was tapping out. He gritted his teeth and stared out the window, watching the scenery.

"Make a left here," Castiel suddenly said, pointing in the direction. Bobby made the turn with a scowl on his face. Sam could see that he was just as perturbed.

"I need to get some gas," Bobby announced. Though Sam could see by the gauge that they weren't quite close to empty yet, there was a gas station right here. Bobby pulled into the station and up to a pump before anyone could protest. Sam mentally stuck his tongue out at Castiel, wishing he could be so childish, but the stupid angel would probably just ignore him anyway. Instead he got out of the truck and stretched his legs. He felt cramped in the cab despite how much legroom there was. He just needed to walk, so he did, looking back to find that Bobby was pumping the gas and watching him. Sam gave a slight nod to let Bobby know that everything was good.

Sam walked to the edge of the gas station's property and stood in a small patch of grass, rolling his neck and shoulders as he stared up at the darkening sky. When had it gotten so dark? He hadn't even realized and the way the clouds were rolling in seemed unnatural to him. Sam felt a presence behind him and he turned to find Castiel standing right there. The man was so silent when he moved. It bugged Sam.

"It's his doing," Castiel said, motioning to the clouds with one hand.

"Great, so then we're getting close," Sam replied. Castiel only nodded in response. Sam scowled down at the shorter man.

"Could you at least tell me how close?" Sam practically growled. Castiel stared up at him with dark, sad eyes. Sam could see Bobby pulling the truck away from the pump and parking it close to where they stood.

"I'm just as anxious to save Dean," Castiel said.

"What don't I know? Why can't you tell me?" Sam said. He sounded so pathetic, but he didn't care. Dean was out there somewhere with Satan enduring God knows what and Sam had never felt so anxious in his entire life. The weapons they brought were useless against their opponent so why had they even bothered? Castiel might be their only chance at coming out of this alive. Sam paced a few steps then turned and paced again. "You have to give me something, Cass," he blurted, allowing his anxiety to take hold. "Anything, because this is just insane."

"I want you to know that I care about Dean more than you will ever know. I'm truly sorry, Sam," Castiel said with a deep sigh. He took something out of his pocket and handed it to Sam. It was a folded slip of paper. "This is where he is." Castiel turned to look up at the sky with a desperate, sad expression. "It's time." With those words he vanished. Sam rushed forward to grab at him but it was too late. Castiel was gone. Sam stared at Bobby and then opened the paper, and stared at the address Castiel had written down.

"I guess we're on our own," Bobby said.

* * *

Dean was sitting on the bed, staring down at the carpeted floor, being reminded of the time the angels had kidnapped him and put him in that stupid holding room to prevent him from stopping Sam. He was thinking about Sam and how freaked out his brother must be by now. He was thinking that maybe going off on his own hadn't been such a good plan after all. He was thinking that maybe he should have eaten something before he left, because his stomach was rumbling. He was thinking about the guy who had been Zachariah's vessel and wondering if he had a family. He was staring down at the scorch marks in the carpet the shape of wings.

Lucifer sat down beside Dean and put his arm around Dean's shoulders. Dean flinched and tried to get up, but the son of a bitch was too strong.

"It won't be long now," Lucifer said. "Let me tell you how this plays out. I already know the end of the story."

"Well that's just cheating," Dean said, trying not to feel nervous. If Lucifer had found Chuck they were more than just doomed. They were royally fucked, but Castiel had said that he made sure Chuck was in a safe place and that even Lucifer would not be spared if he tried to hurt the guy.

"I'm Satan," he said with a shrug. "I cheat. Get over it. As I was saying, I know the ending and it's not pretty for you and yours. Castiel is going to die like a dog, and I'm going to be the one who kills him." He held the sword up in front of Dean's face. "I'm going to slice his pretty throat open and he's going to bleed all over this hideous rug, which would be an improvement, and then I am going to kill Sam and then your hick friend and then I am going to gut you like a pig."

Dean tried not to shudder at the words and the fact that Lucifer was fondling his shoulder with his hand. He stared at the wild eyes. They were so blue and the face of the man who Lucifer had chosen as a vessel was so soft and welcoming. Dean felt sorry for the poor bastard. No matter how this ended, it would not end well for him.

"Maybe we could cut a deal," Lucifer said with a smile. The smile was so friendly, like they were having a casual conversation about the weather.

"No thanks," Dean said with firm conviction. There was no way he'd ever cut a deal with this bastard. One time in hell was one time too many.

"Are you sure?" Lucifer said, raising one eye brow. "I'd give you plenty of time, say seven years." He waved the sword in the air. "I'd go right this second and leave you all alone."

"Yeah, right," Dean said with a snort. "You'd leave us alone. You would let me walk out of here and leave us alone until my seven years was up."

Lucifer nodded. "I may be a bastard, but I would never break a contract. Look." With that word, Lucifer places a hand on Dean's forehead.

The image of Castiel being stabbed with the sword flashed before Dean's eyes. He stood and watched as Castiel fell to the floor in this very room, blood pouring out of the wound, eyes wide in horror. Then Sam rushed forward and he stopped with a shocked expression on his face as his throat was cut. He fell on top of Castiel, dead. Then Bobby was there, falling as he was also stabbed. Blood pooled under their bodies. Lucifer stood above them, black wings shadows on his shoulders.

He pulled his hand away from Dean and Dean stared with wide horrified eyes at what he'd just seen. "Was that the future?"

Lucifer nodded. It had all felt so real. The image of Sam and Castiel and Bobby all dead burned in Dean's mind.

"You could stop all that," Lucifer said, leaning in closer. His lips were up against Dean's ear, breath on him. Dean shivered and turned his head to look Lucifer in the eyes.

"You'd let us all live?" Dean said with a swallow, horrified that he was even saying this.

Lucifer nodded and brushed Dean's hair with his hand.

"I can see why Castiel loves you," he said. "You're breathtaking."

Dean shivered again uncontrollably. This was insane. He stopped and realized that Lucifer's grip on the sword had slackened, and it was right there, practically in Dean's lap. He could snatch it from his hand, and then this would all be over. For just a second, Dean felt time stop. He ignored the hot caress on his neck and the soft lips on his ear. He ignored everything but the sword, willing it to be his.

"Get your hands off of him," the words boomed through the room. The moment was over. Dean cursed Castiel's bad timing and watched as the one chance he might have had to end all this vanished.

Lucifer stood and held the sword behind his back. Dean eyed the weapon, trying to decide if he should make a play and stab the devil in the back.

"It's about time you showed up," Lucifer said.

"Cass, don't," Dean yelled. "He's got some kind of sword that can kill an angel."

Castiel nodded and stood his ground when Lucifer showed him the sword. He didn't seem disturbed or frightened by the revelation that he had a weapon made just for killing his kind.

"Isn't that sweet how he has a cute little nickname for you," Lucifer said. He tucked the sword into his jacket pocket and held his empty hands up for all to see. "You know how this ends. You've been to see that so-called prophet."

Dean inched to the left away from Lucifer, hoping to position himself better. He eyed Castiel, watching for any sign or signal that the angel had some sort of plan he could somehow convey with a wave of his hand or an eyebrow waggle. He willed Castiel to have a plan.

"I do know how this ends," Castiel said, putting his hands behind his back casually like they were just standing around talking about what movie to go see. Dean wished he was imagining the indifferent attitude. He knew Castiel wasn't exactly the strongest of his bunch, but this was insane. He couldn't have come here without some kind of plan, could he?

While Dean was pondering this, Lucifer rushed forward so fast that he was a blur. Castiel flew back and hit the wall behind him with a sickening crunch. The building rattled around them when he hit the wall.

"This is foolish," Lucifer said, walking forward to stand over Castiel's fallen body. Dean could see a trickle of blood at the corner of Castiel's mouth. "You'll never beat me." He reached down and pulled Castiel to his feet, holding him by the collar. Dean rushed forward, and was backhanded for his efforts. He slammed against the wall, and slid to the floor. "Don't worry, Dean, you're next once I'm done here." Dean watched, helpless to do anything but groan in pain, as Castiel was bashed in the head over and over again with the hilt of the sword. Castiel tried to stop the blows, but they were too swift. Blood splattered the ceiling after the third blow. When Dean was sure he could no longer stomach what he was seeing, Lucifer released Castiel, and watched as he flopped to the ground.

"I will never give up," Castiel said. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and wiped blood from his lips.

"I know you won't, but here's the thing," Lucifer said as he grabbed Castiel's collar again and held him in place. Castiel sagged in the man's gripped. Dean forced himself to stand up despite the pain shooting through his own battered body, and rushed forward again. Lucifer released Castiel, allowing him to fall limp to the floor, and punched Dean in the face hard. Dean screamed in pain as he went down. "Stay down." This time, Dean stayed where he lay and watched as Lucifer turned his attention back to Castiel. They were going to die here. It was over, and there wasn't a damn thing Dean could do about it.

"You can't win," Castiel said. He spat blood on the carpet and managed to stand. Dean almost cheered as Castiel turned and kicked Lucifer in the gut, but the action barely staggered the demon. He countered with his own kick, and Castiel fell backwards with a loud thump.

"You and your boyfriend will never defeat me," Lucifer said as he straddled Castiel, punching him over and over in the face. Blood flew everywhere and Dean crawled across the floor toward them. Just as Dean reached them, Lucifer jumped up and off of Castiel to back away. Dean slid the rest of the distance and pulled Castiel close. His face was a mess of blood and bruises were already forming.

"Why are you doing this?" Dean asked, feeling foolish even as he said the words. This was the devil and he was evil. Hell, evil was literally in his name. Asking the devil why he was hurting them was like asking water why it was wet.

"This is so touching," Lucifer said as he licked at the blood on his knuckles. Dean's stomach clenched with disgust at the sight. He pulled Castiel's battered head into his lap.

"Come on," Dean said to Castiel.

"Why don't you kiss it better?" Lucifer suggested with a glint of mirth in his eye.

Dean glared up at him and turned his attention back to Castiel. He wasn't healing. The wounds still looked nasty and Castiel looked like he was on the verge of shutting down but they seemed less nasty than a few moments ago.

"I'm serious," Lucifer said. His voice had changed from one of mirth to one of impatience. "Kiss it better." He pulled the sword from his pocket and held it up.

"You're a fucking lunatic," Dean said.

"I think I'll rip his fucking wings off first before I gut him," Lucifer said softly. "You can watch him bleed to death, or I will give you a choice. Kiss him now and I might be gentle later."

Dean wanted to laugh at how absurd the whole situation was. This was totally insane. The devil wanted him to kiss an angel? Dean stared down into Castiel's pleading eyes, but he wasn't sure what he was pleading for. He touched Castiel's bruised cheek and noticed that the bruise wasn't as bad as it had been a few minutes ago. Dean felt hope swell in his chest. Maybe this would buy them some time.

"Come on, Dean," Lucifer said. He stood a few feet away, watching them with a gleeful expression on his face. "I have no doubt that you could corrupt the incorruptible. Now kiss the pretty little angel, and we can get on with this."

Dean stared down into Castiel's eyes. It was his eyes. Castiel's eyes always caught Dean's attention and never failed to make him feel warm inside. He bent his head and kissed Castiel on the forehead. The kiss was soft and hesitant.

"You can do better than that," Lucifer said. "Kiss him on the lips and get some tongue action going." His voice was no longer playful in the least bit. Dean glanced up and saw that Lucifer looked angry. His eyes were red now. Dean looked back down at Castiel unsure of what to do next. Castiel nodded once as though giving consent to continue. Dean tilted his battered head up so that he could place a soft kiss on Castiel's bleeding lips. The taste of blood filled Dean's mouth. Dean felt a surge of adrenaline rush through his body as he deepened the kiss. Castiel parted his lips and pushed his tongue into Dean's mouth. The taste of blood overwhelmed Dean, but he didn't care. His heart was beating harder in his chest as he licked the blood and swallowed some down.

"Okay, that's enough," Lucifer said. Dean barely heard the words. He was caught in the wonderful tingling sensation of Castiel's lips on his. Each time their tongues touched, Dean felt a warmth course through his body. He wasn't sure if it was the blood or the kiss. All his pain went away and Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean. He could feel the strength in those arms, and then Dean was being pulled from Castiel. The moment their lips separated, Dean felt sorrow and loss like he'd never felt before.

"I said that's enough!" Lucifer's voice echoed so loud that Dean had to put his hands over his ears. "Dirty little perverts."

"There is nothing dirty or perverted about love," Castiel said. He stood in one smooth movement and rushed forward, pushing Lucifer to the floor, and straddling him. He managed a few blows to his head before Lucifer pushed Castiel off and flung him across the room. Castiel landed face down with a groan. Dean rushed to his side, turning his back on Lucifer, which in hindsight was a foolish move. Dean felt the air whoosh from his lungs as he was yanked off his feet and thrown away from Castiel. He was starting to feel like a fucking rag doll. He slowly turned himself around and came face to face with Lucifer's ugly stare.

"It's disgusting," Lucifer sneered. He gripped Dean by his hair and titled Dean's head up, shoving his face in Dean's. "I hate the way you two drool all over each other." He yanked Dean's hair, and grabbed hold of one of Dean's arms. "I hate the way he looks at you like you're the most important thing in the world." Lucifer twisted Dean's arm, almost wrenching it out of its socket. Dean clenched his jaw, determined not to scream. He clutched at Lucifer with his free arm. He could see Castiel just out of the corner of his eye. Castiel wasn't moving.

"Jealousy is such an ugly thing," Dean said between gritted teeth. He eyed Lucifer coolly. If he was going to die here, he was going out cocky. Lucifer shook him in retaliation.

"You are incorrigible," Lucifer said. He stood and effortlessly lifted Dean up with him, pulling Dean in close and releasing Dean's arm. The arm fell limp. Dean was sure it was broken, but he barely felt the pain. He didn't know if he was just blocking the pain from his mind, or if it was the angel blood he'd ingested.

"I really am," Dean said with a grin. He was starting to feel dizzy now. His head lolled as Lucifer grabbed his chin.

"I should let you live and make you my bitch," Lucifer growled. He shook Dean again and threw him across the room. Dean landed on top of Castiel, his back to Lucifer. He almost passed out but then willed himself to stay conscious. He needed to stay awake, or they would die for sure. The sword he'd sneaked from Lucifer lay between him and Castiel, the hilt jabbed into his side.

When he looked down at Castiel, he saw that the angel was still alive and awake. Dean pushed up, wishing he could take a breather, but there was no time for that. He had one chance to get this right and he wasn't going to let everyone down. The sword gleamed in the dim light, and Dean showed it to Castiel. Castiel mouthed something Dean couldn't quite understand, but then his heart jumped in his chest when he realized that he'd mouthed 'I love you.' He gripped the sword tightly in his hand and turned, holding it behind his back. Lucifer rushed forward and Dean thrust out, plunging the sword in his chest to the hilt. The shocked expression on Lucifer's face was almost comical.

"I'm nobody's bitch," Dean said. He twisted the sword just for good measure, and then yanked it out, pushing Lucifer's body back. It seemed to fall in slow motion. Dean took a step back as a rush of air filled the room and Lucifer seemed to glow for just a moment. Dean looked over to see Castiel getting to his feet.

"I guess I was wrong about how this would end," Castiel said. He walked to Dean's side and stood staring down at the body of the man who had been a vessel for Lucifer.

Something slammed against the door, once then twice then three times. Dean was too exhausted to defend against whatever was coming through that door. He sighed with relief when Sam and Bobby rushed into the room with weapons ready. When they realized that they'd missed the climax, they lowered their weapons. Sam rushed to Dean's side.

"You shouldn't have rushed off on your own," Sam said, glancing around the room. Dean leaned against Sam, taking care not to jostle his broken bones.

"Shut up," Dean said, placing his hand on Sam's neck.

"This is the only way it could have gone," Castiel said. He stood behind Dean covered in blood.

"Let's get you to a hospital," Sam said as he held Dean up. They moved to the door where Bobby stood gazing down at the body of Lucifer. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever," Dean said as they left the room behind.

* * *

This was so weird. It was like they'd been running for so long from something or other that Dean kept expecting some sort of explosion or another at any second. He'd been laid up in a hotel bed for a few days, mending from the beating he'd taken from Lucifer. Sam had gotten his own room to give Dean some privacy. At first Dean wasn't sure what privacy he needed but then Castiel had walked through the door, insisting that he watch over Dean while he healed.

Castiel was sitting on the bed beside Dean, dealing a card. Dean was trying to teach him how to play crazy eights, but Castiel had failed to grasp the concept of the simple game. Whether that was because he was dense or because he was deliberately playing dumb, Dean had yet to determine. At this point he didn't much care. He sat up in the bed in his boxer shorts and a t-shirt with his arm in a sling. So far they'd both managed to avoid talking about the two kisses they'd shared. Dean thought maybe they should get it out of the way, but then decided there was no point. He liked things just the way they were right this second. They'd pushed Lucifer back to hell. Castiel told him that the sword hadn't killed Lucifer. When Dean had plunged it into Lucifer, he'd been sent back to where he belonged. The news had been a disappointment, but then at least they wouldn't have the bastard to contend with ever again.

"Maybe we should play another game?" Castiel suggested. Dean set his cards down and sighed.

"Sure, loser," he said with a smirk. Castiel set his cards down as well and gazed into Dean's eyes.

"You should take a picture, it lasts longer," Dean said. Suddenly, Dean felt nervous for no reason that he could determine.

"Perhaps I should," Castiel said. He took Dean's free hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. Oh, oh.

"Look, Cass," Dean said, turning his hand in Castiel's and brushing their fingers together. The sensation his touch sent through Dean couldn't be denied. It was there, whatever it was.

"Love is not dirty," Castiel whispered.

Dean swallowed hard. He knew he wouldn't be able to avoid this for much longer. What the hell. What did he have to lose anyway? Dean leaned forward and kissed Castiel on the mouth. It was awkward and weird, what with the stubble. Dean was not used to stubble on his partner's face. Was this what it was? Were they partners in that way now? Did Dean want them to be? Did Castiel want them to be? Fuck. Dean couldn't stop the questions from swirling in his brain even as Castiel slid closer along the bed to cup Dean's face in his hand and deepen the kiss. This time, there was no hesitation as their mouths met and Castiel slipped his wet tongue past Dean's dry lips. Dean opened his mouth, eager to feel the thrill he'd felt before. This had to be a sin. Was it sinful to kiss an angel like this? Was it sinful to lust after an angel? Dean was almost sure that lightning would strike them or something, but nothing happened. Except his dick was getting hard just from a kiss and it had been a long time since that had happened.

Castiel broke the moment and sat staring at Dean. He licked his lips and Dean's eyes went to his mouth.

"Why don't you get more comfortable," Dean said, eyeing Castiel's clothes. He hadn't even removed the trench coat and Dean felt hot just looking at how overdressed Castiel was, or maybe he felt that way because of the kiss. He was glad for the blankets that were covering his embarrassing hard on.

Castiel stood and removed the coat, his jacket and then his tie, setting them down on a chair. Dean grinned and leaned back, cradling his head in the crook of his arm to watch the impromptu strip show. He ignored the voice in his head that kept reminding him that Castiel was a guy and that Dean would most likely lose his sight if he ever saw the angel's true form. Who cared about those things when the look of adoration on Castiel's face made Dean tingle in his nether regions? He couldn't even remember the last time anyone had looked at him that way.

Dean watched as Castiel stripped all the way down to his white briefs and undershirt. He sat up quickly when Castiel started to remove them, and held up a hand.

"Whoa, you gotta leave something to the imagination," Dean rushed to say. Maybe he wasn't as laid back about all this as he thought. Dean reached over to the table beside the bed and turned on the radio. It was already tuned to a classic rock station and Led Zepplin's Whole Lotta Love warbled from the small radio speakers. He motioned at the light switch on the wall. "Would you get that?"

Castiel turned the light off at the same time that Dean turned the small bedside lap on. There was no reason to be sloppy about seduction. Dean stopped at the thought. Was that what this was? Was he trying to seduce Castiel? Just a few days ago they were at the mercy of Lucifer himself, and now here he was, Dean Winchester lady's-man, trying to get it on with a guy.

Dean watched as Castiel sat back down and took Dean's hand in his. Castiel's eyes were dark and glistening in the dim light. Dean pulled him close and kissed him on the mouth.

"Get in the bed," he muttered against Castiel's warm lips. Dean slid over to give Castiel more room and they froze when they heard the sound of the door opening.

"I was wondering if you guys..." Sam stopped in the doorway and stared with wide-eyes. He backed away and closed the door without another word.

"Hmm, that's going to take some explaining in the morning," Dean said, in a vain attempt to lighten the mood of heavy anticipation. Castiel regarded him solemnly, but before he could say anything, Dean pulled Castiel in close and they kissed again. Dean could feel his erection pressed against his thigh. Dean flinched when his broken arm was nudged by accident.

"Sorry, I've never done this before," Castiel said.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I've never done this before with a guy either," Dean said. He could feel his face heating up at the thought that he had some other guy's dick pressed against his thigh. "Well, that answers that question." Castiel seemed on the verge of saying something, but then seemed to change his mind. Instead he kissed Dean on the lips. This time the kiss was soft and gentle and slow. Kissing Dean knew. Kissing was easy. He wrapped his good arm around Castiel and pulled him closer until Castiel's leg was lying across Dean. The sensation of his naked skin touching Castiel's thrilled Dean. His cock jumped in his boxers. Castiel broke the kiss and stared down at Dean.

"Sorry about that," Dean said. "My dick has a mind of its own." He kissed Castiel as the song on the radio changed. Dean wasn't strong enough just yet to do much more than lay there as Castiel explored his body. Castiel carefully removed Dean's t-shirt and then he removed his own undershirt, but stopped at removing their underwear. His hands and eyes wandered over every inch of Dean. Dean shivered when Castiel touched the handprint on his shoulder. Each kiss Castiel places on him was like a balm, and Dean could feel any residual tension or uncertainty fade away.

"Put some tongue into it," Dean suggested. Castiel licked Dean, sending shivers through Dean's body. "Fuck yeah."

"That felt good," Castiel said more than asked. He gripped Dean's hips in his hands, squeezing them gently. Dean shivered again when Castiel brushed his bare skin with his thumbs.

"Are you sure you've never done this before?" Dean asked when Castiel slipped his thumbs just under the elastic of Dean's boxers. Castiel's hair tickled Dean's chest as he continued to kiss with more confidence. He licked one nipple then the other. Dean arched his back when Castiel gently nipped the hard nub of his nipples. He bit one then the other then bit them just a bit harder.

"I'm sure, but I'm beginning to understand the concept of foreplay and why it's so enjoyable," Castiel said between nibbles and kisses.

Dean's mind exploded when Castiel brushed his chin stubble against the most sensitive parts of his belly. He didn't even care how Castiel knew about foreplay. He just wanted Castiel to keep going and never stop. He jumped when Castiel dragged his chin down and used it to push Dean's boxers lower. Fuck that was hot. That was impossibly hot! Castiel hooked his fingers on the elastic of Dean's boxers and started to slide them down. Dean lifted his hips just enough to help.

"You're a fast learner," Dean said. The boxers were off and tossed aside and Castiel was stripping off his own underwear while Dean watched. Castiel seemed to glide above Dean as though flying before settling down beside him. Dean wrapped his good arm around Castiel and pulled him in closer. The slide of smooth skin against him felt amazing. Their cocks touched and Dean groaned when Castiel wrapped a hand around them and stroked.

It wasn't long before Castiel was climaxing against their bellies. He used the wetness as lubricant to finish Dean off. Dean barely noticed the pain when he jostled his injured arm. He was too busy basking in the glow of orgasm.

"Fuck that was awesome," he muttered. His whole body felt relaxed and the pain had subsided. Castiel stroked Dean's hair and kissed him on the cheek.

"It was awesome," Castiel said as he placed more kisses on Dean's face and neck. Dean noticed that Castiel was already starting to get hard again. Dean was exhausted but the idea of going again excited him, and Castiel looked eager to continue their foreplay.

A knock at the door interrupted his train of thought.

"Hello," Sam called from behind the door.

"Yo," Dean called out. He stroked Castiel's cheek with his hand and kissed him on the mouth hard. Their tongues touched and Dean hummed with pleasure.

"Are you decent?" Sam asked.

"Sure we are," Dean called out with a chuckled. "You're always decent, right," he said to Castiel, running his fingers through the spiky hair. Castiel stretched his leg over Dean in an attempt to cover their nakedness, or so Dean thought. When he started to rub against Dean and kiss him harder, Dean realized that he was going to continue their second round of play time.

The door opened and Sam shrieked. "You said you were decent," Sam yelped in outrage.

"We are," Dean said between kisses. He couldn't stop if wanted to at this point. Castiel was just so hot and persuasive. Dean didn't bother to look up at his brother, until he realized that the door hadn't shut and Sam was still standing in the room with them. Dean paused and smiled up at Sam. "Surprise, Sammy," he said with a big grin. Sam was gazing at the far wall, shifting from one foot to the other nervously.

"You're both naked and..." Sam started to say. He yanked the door open.

"Prude," Dean called out as Sam slammed the door behind him. "Why don't you show me that move again," he said to Castiel once they were alone.

Dean settled back on the bed and relaxed as Castiel floated above him and wings fanned out behind him, casting long shadows on the darkened ceiling. Their lips touched in a soft, possessive kiss. There was no doubt in Dean's mind that his life was never going to be a dull one. In truth, Dean wouldn't have it any other way.

End

 

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